


dandelion

by wngkyns



Category: AB6IX (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Fluff, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Light Angst, M/M, mentions of the other members
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-03 23:23:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21187709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wngkyns/pseuds/wngkyns
Summary: The Spring Equinox was never Youngmin's favorite time of the year.





	dandelion

**Author's Note:**

> based on the myth of hades and persephone, where persephone lives half a year in the underworld and the other half in the mortal world to bring forth spring. an experimental oneshot i guess. written bc woong looks cute in flower crowns
> 
> youngmin - hades  
woong - persephone  
woojin - zeus  
donghyun - poseidon  
daehwi - hermes  
sewoon (ydpp) - hecate  
gwanghyun (ydpp) - apollo  
changkyun (monsta x) - cupid  
(unmentioned) wonho (monsta x) - psyche

The Spring Equinox was never something that bothered Youngmin centuries ago but, as humans say, _ ‘times change.’ _ The concept of _ time _itself was foreign too, a mere construct set by Fate innately adapted by mortals to mark occasions in some organized fashion. A god such as he, despite his ability to stick with punctuality without those silly modern human time tickers, never expected to end up counting days.

Yet here he was, pacing restlessly inside the gloomy halls of his manor with the undeniable sense of dread. The Spring Equinox was too soon and he craved for more time, regretful of those past moments he had chuckled over hearing mortals bargain for _ just one more day, please, _before he escorted their souls to respective doors into his immortal realm. He finally understood their pleas and the intent behind them — “I just want to say a proper goodbye,” he’d been told thousands of times.

Ironic how he shared the same sentiments now. He’d rather not have anyone know about it.

~~~~~

Woong’s garden was special. Handcrafted by the young god himself, the quaint field grew the loveliest shades of warm greens and cool golds no one dared imagine to find in the Underworld. Even Youngmin himself considered it a miracle, owing it to Woojin’s ‘blessing’ of barrenness on the grounds of Youngmin’s realm, but Woong carried his domain over nature regardless of where he walked. 

It was an unusual sight in the Underworld, where monotone shades of darkness coinciding with tints of blue shades from flames and fluorescence colored Youngmin’s realm into a permanent evening. But it was a nice change of pace, blossoming with feelings of _ home _amidst the coldness of his realm. Even without the sun’s warm touch, the garden was reminiscent of Youngmin’s youth on Earth before he had chosen to assume responsibility in the unseen realm of death underneath the world. 

He leaned against the firm trunk of an old oak, the very first tree Woong had sprouted during his first decade in the Underworld, as he watched the beloved god weave through an iridescent patch of flowers. Woong’s smile glowed in the distance, bright and beautiful as he hummed a familiar tune of a mortal lullaby he loved. 

Woong loved mortal lullabies, and Youngmin loved Woong’s voice. He wondered what the next song the young god would bring when he'd return. 

Youngmin cursed himself under his breath a second after for even wondering, trying his best not to frown at the unwelcome bittersweet feeling imbued by his own thoughts.

~~~~~

Gods didn’t sleep. Or rather, didn’t need it. But the Big Three Gods had their respective opinions on it.

While Woojin held less regard for sleep due to his high tendency to ditch a mountain of duties for _ interesting _pursuits on Earth’s many realms, Donghyun was the first among their siblinghood to appreciate sleep for the clarity it brought. 

Surely, Youngmin had never adapted to the act because he, _ unlike one other Big Three God, _actually attended to his responsibilities. Dealing with dead souls daily was his purpose, something he’d overwork himself with even now with hired help from lesser deities and other beings. But ever since Woong had gotten in the picture, sleep had embedded itself into his habits because of Donghyun’s unsolicited advice from centuries ago, “Some humans cope with grief by sleeping. Maybe you should try it out.”

And so Youngmin, from his grief, had fallen asleep hundreds of times this millenium on the day before the Spring Equinox. And every year, he’d wake up with the same giggle echoing him into wakefulness.

He blinked his eyes open to see Woong’s smiling squinted eyes just inches from his own, the young god’s titters growing louder and louder as Youngmin willed himself into consciousness. “You fell asleep again, you silly god,” Woong tittered with a toothy grin. 

“Mmm.” Youngmin gently nodded, and realized there was a weight on his head. He slowly moved his hand to pat his hair, instead feeling petal silk and leaf bristles brush against his fingertips. A lazy smile grew on his lips as he attempts to pull off the flower crown Woong had probably placed on him while asleep, but the young god immediately leaned forward and grabbed Youngmin’s wrist before he could do so.

“I just put that on you,” Woong pouted. Youngmin couldn’t help but reach forward and pinch his cheek. “Ow!”

“Let me see it,” he insisted, but Woong’s grip only tightened. His other arm reached from behind him, pulling out a ring of baby blues and light lilacs. 

“We have the same one, don’t take yours off,” the younger pleaded with a kind grin, perching his own crown on his lavender hair. Youngmin failed to hold back a brief laugh seeing the woven flowers slide down and rest in a crooked tilt on Woong’s head. He reached forward and fixed the crown on the young god’s hair, his fingers tracing down to Woong’s smiling cheeks.

Slowly, his gaze shifted down to meet Woong’s wide brown eyes, his amusement growing with every confused blink the younger makes. His hands gently cupped the young god’s face as he gently pressed his lips against Woong’s forehead.

The sun could never match the warm glow of Woong’s smile as Youngmin pulled away to see his beloved’s face, nor could any song match the sweet melody of Woong’s laugh as he whacked Youngmin on the shoulder.

“Don’t,” Youngmin hissed, one eye squinted as he rubbed his new sore spot. “Why’d you even—”

“You kissed me,” Woong grinned.

Youngmin sighed. “I _ kissed _you, and you repay me with violence.”

“Reflex. You kissed me out of the blue.” Youngmin rolled his eyes at the faux saccharine in the younger god’s tone. Woong’s beauty was outmatched, but so was his strange logic. 

“Just on the forehead,” he reminded in exasperation. Woong’s playfulness knew no bounds, even the fact that Youngmin was just fresh from slumber. “And I’m your husband. I’m allowed to kiss you, right?”

The younger laughed, scooting closer to Youngmin until he could wrap his arms around the older god’s shoulders and plant a light kiss on Youngmin’s cheek. “Of course,” he smiled. “All the kisses. I know you’ll miss them.”

Youngmin’s lips pressed together before he could realize it, and the dormant ache in his chest began stirring again from Woong’s words. Of course Youngmin would miss Woong’s kisses. 

The Spring Equinox was tomorrow, and Woong was obligated to return to Earth again for half a mortal year. And while Youngmin knew it was for the best — or, at least, the only agreeable compromise for him and Woong’s mother — Woong’s absence would _ hurt, _regardless of its impermanence. Even if Woong would always find his way back into Youngmin’s arms every year with a little more experience in his own duties of godhood and a lot more stories to share, half a year away from each other always planted seeds of loneliness that no divine power could remedy.

Of course Youngmin would miss Woong, and he knew it was silly to feel more grief over what the young god said. He was just being playful, it was always part of Woong’s nature, but reminded him that he never had gotten used to Woong leaving every year. 

A light touch on his cheek snapped him out of his thoughts, followed by Woong’s concerned gaze as he whispered, “Youngmin.”

“Y—Yes?” he stammered.

And Woong’s eyes fluttered shut, lips brushing against Youngmin’s own, and pulled away before Youngmin could reciprocate.

“You’re distracted,” Woong added, pressing his forehead on Youngmin’s. 

“Just woke up,” he mumbled. 

The younger god chuckled. “That’s such a mortal thing to say.”

“You influenced me,” he reasoned. Youngmin was mostly out of touch with Earth, only aware of human culture from Woong’s stories. Donghyun’s too in occasions he visited, but he mostly talked of humans interacting with the sea, so Youngmin’s knowledge of human speech rested heavily on Woong.

“I’ll miss you too, you know,” Woong said. 

Seconds passed. Youngmin’s arms move to pull Woong into a warm embrace. “This half-year felt short.”

Woong tightened the hug, his chin propped on Youngmin’s neck. “I wish I could stay longer. Mother doesn’t even need me to start spring.”

Youngmin laughed softly, somewhat bitterly. It was true, but he knew why the Goddess of Nature’s Fertility needed Woong so much by her side. “Remember what I told you? Your mother makes nature so… symmetrical, formulaic. You make nature grow as it should be, spontaneous and vibrant. As much as I hate letting you go, spring wouldn't be what it is without you.”

“I always remember. You always remind me that I’m not just a dandelion in the wind.” Woong hummed. Their bodies inched closer, Woong’s hold gentle as he made them sway side to side. 

“You remind me of the same thing. Even the God of the Underworld feels unspecial sometimes,” Youngmin chuckled, smiling into Woong’s neck. And it was true, given his reputation as the only permanent Underworld dweller among the gods. 

“You do more work than Donghyun or Woojin, please!” Woong laughed. “Don't let the limited knowledge mortals have about you affect you.”

His lips trace Woong's neck upward, feather-light, and the young god let out a soft squeak. “Mhmm, sure.”

“Not in the garden,” Woong said. Youngmin rendered himself selectively deaf as he pressed his lips against Woong's skin again.

The younger pulled back, laughing his trademark giggle. “You're hopeless, Youngmin.”

“Please don't say hopelessly in love,” he sighed, even though it's true. “Or another joke about Changkyun's arrows piercing me too hard.”

“Funny you'd say that, I heard Changkyun pricked himself with one of his arrows?” Woong suddenly said, eyes glimmering with glee. “I wonder who our resident cupid is in love with… I heard it’s a very handsome human.”

“You're not back on Earth yet and you're already on with rumors,” Youngmin said, hiding his endearment on Woong's enthusiasm. 

“Talked to Sewoon yesterday! He had some 'tea', as mortals say, after visiting Olympus,” Woong explained gleefully. “I asked him to keep an eye on you and make sure you won't always be asleep.”

Youngmin clicked his tongue, raising a brow. “Have some faith in me, Woong.”

“I do have some faith. Some isn't much for quantity, though, my dear King,” the younger teased, giggling once more. His laughs evolved to hollers at Youngmin shaking his shoulders.

But despite Youngmin's reaction, Woong had every reason for his concern, especially with Youngmin's tendency to rest a _ tad _too much on their first weeks apart. Sewoon, the God of Night who took it upon himself to help Youngmin with his work in the Underworld starting a few centuries ago, had probably conversed with the young god about it.

“I'm kidding! I'm kidding!” Woong whined. “And sleep _ is _ good. Just not too much, okay?”

“Okay.” 

With a lazy smile, he shifted in position until his head rested on Woong’s lap. The young god’s face lit up with a smile, a hand gentle against Youngmin’s cheek and the other combing and playing with the God of the Underworld’s splayed pitch black hair. Woong giggled again, high-pitched yet soft, crescent-shaped eyes pouring with amusement and affection.

“You want to sleep again?” he asked, lightly pinching Youngmin’s cheek. “Maybe the Olympians should make you God of Napping instead, then crown me the Lord of the Undead.”

Youngmin laughed. Woong was trying his hardest to tease him and keep their spirits light, he appreciated it. Today felt like a normal day together instead of a day Youngmin would internally wallow in dread, helping him ease into accepting their inevitable parting once Gwanghyun would pull the sun over the mortal skies in hours time. He’d miss sweet Woong, his silly jokes, his hearty laughs, and Woong keeping normalcy between them today made Youngmin realize Woong would miss what he loved about Youngmin just as much.

“Is that why you really married me? To steal my spot?” he retorted in jest. 

“Harsh accusation,” Woong tutted. “You know it’s because I loved the pomegranates in your old garden.”

_ Right. _ That was one of the ‘legal’ reasons.

He barely processed Woong bending lower, closer until their faces were inches apart, until soft lips met his own. 

Woong tasted of apples and grapes, fruits he’d been plucking from the vast field of his garden while Youngmin had been attending to new souls crossing the River Styx. Youngmin’s hands moved, fingertips grazing the smooth skin of the young god’s face gently. 

The younger pulled away but kept his lips dangerously close and hovering above Youngmin’s. “And because I love you.”

Youngmin blinked. Woong straightened himself up again. “S—Say that again?” he stammered, dazed at the lingering taste of wine-used fruits. 

“I married you because I love you,” Woong repeated, smiling down kindly at the older god. “I love you, Youngmin.”

He smiled back. “And I love you.”

~~~~~

Woong’s absence from the Underworld was _ felt _everywhere within the realm, from the lackluster blue tints of hovering flames to the dreary, stuffier air that could choke migrating souls into silence, but Youngmin spoke barely of it to keep the cogs of the Underworld functioning. Sewoon didn’t say a peep of it either and spoke in fluent professionalism to the older god. The normalcy was good, it kept Youngmin at bay.

The ache this year, admittedly, stung less, and Youngmin could tell what had changed that helped. They had tried a myriad of things in the past, from lavish dates in another realm to discreet lovemaking in their home. Their first century involved more denial and dramatics, but Youngmin grew to adapt to his annual grief with sleep instead. Woong had noticed and seemed to focus more on pouring mundane tells of affection, and normalcy seemed to work best for them.

“We should treat it as what it is,” Woong had said last night. “Something temporary.”

Woong also had more tricks up his sleeve as the years passed, apart from his reassuring words. He’d leave a little sprout every year in his garden for Youngmin to tend to, its identity unknown until he nursed it into full growth. Youngmin liked thinking, this Woong knew well, and thought it’d be a fun challenge for Youngmin to guess what plants he’d grow while Woong was away.

And that’s what Youngmin did once he arrived home, pouring water on a little spot burying an unknown seed. It was quiet and calming, and Youngmin thought of Woong’s endearing smiles whenever he attended to different plants, but the silence of the garden slowly pulled Youngmin back into missing Woong… in the sadder sense.

“You’re looking glum,” came a sudden voice, making Youngmin drop his watering pot. He spun around to find a floating Daehwi looking at him with piercing eyes, more analytical than anything. “Huh. Less glum. Still glum, though.”

“What are you doing here, Daehwi,” he sighed, hoping the Messenger God isn’t here to tease him _ or _send a teasing message from his brothers. “Look, if Donghyun thinks I should visit him today because of the Equinox—”

“Don’t assume, Mister Lord of the Underworld,” Daehwi interrupts, snapping a box into corporeality in Youngmin’s arms. “The Lord of the Seas has long gotten your message to leave you alone when you have the Equinox blues.”

With another snap, Daehwi conjured up an ink-tipped quill and a piece of parchment. “Now sign this, and I’ll be out of your gloomy hair,” the god said. Youngmin took the quill in his writing hand, unable to speak as his mind wondered about the box. Is it from Woong?

“I see your face, _ duh _ it’s from Woong,” Daehwi said. Youngmin glanced at him with a raised brow, but the Messenger God only replied with a teasing smile. “Gods, I have no idea how your glumness deals with his cheeriness. He annoyed me to send you this ASAP, you know.”

“You speak too much like a mortal,” Youngmin answered, eyes focused on his signature. 

“Ugh, gloomy. My question stands,” Daehwi sassed, pulling away the parchment and pen once Youngmin was done. 

“I’m not _ always _miserable, Daehwi. You know that,” he sighed, reciprocated by a mischievous laugh from the younger god. A short pause. “How is he?”

“Missing you, don’t worry.” The Messenger God winked at him. “Enjoy your package!”

Daehwi vanished in a blink of an eye, leaving Youngmin to scramble to the old oak tree before opening the square cardboard box.

“Ah, Woong,” he whispered to himself with a smile.

A letter and a young dandelion.

~~~~~

_ Dearest Youngmin _

_ I was planning to send you a Pomelia, a memorabilia of Sicily, but I remembered you when I found this dandelion while roaming around in Mother’s field of flowers. _

_ We both compared ourselves to it yesterday because of what we’ve comforted each other — me with my feelings of being unspecial, you with your feelings of being overlooked. _

_ I guess, in a way, we’re both dandelions that have found our ways to each other? _

_ That doesn’t make sense, does it? I’d write a new letter to remove my ramblings but Mother only had one parchment and she doesn’t own any pencils. Dreadful! I will ask Daehwi to snatch one for me when we meet, I especially like the ones with erasers. _

_ What I really want to say is _

_ I miss you and your comfort. _

_ Did you know that mortals blow dandelion seeds in the wind to make a wish? I tried it and it was relaxing to watch the seeds flutter into the wind, and I part of me hoped the wind could carry them to you. But since it can’t, I thought to send one to you instead so you could try it. And don’t forget to make a wish! _

_ I’m running out of parchment oh no :( _

_ I’ll write a letter to you again okay! _

_ Please write back too. Don’t tell me what you wished for, mortals say sharing it won’t make it happen. _

_ And even without me saying it, you already know what I wish for. _

_ I love you so much. _

~~~~~

The dry Underworld air was nothing compared to the gentle breezes of Sicily, but Youngmin understood what Woong meant. 

Dandelion seeds looked beautiful as they fluttered and floated, even for just a few seconds, before falling onto the grass of Woong’s eternal garden.

Youngmin hummed the last lullaby Woong had brought him as he walked back into their home, smiling at the thought of his scattered wishes to blow dandelion seeds in the wind and make wishes with Woong when his beloved returns again.


End file.
